


Sometimes You Weep

by eprime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, rs_games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-16
Updated: 2010-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eprime/pseuds/eprime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An obscure branch of magic long since fallen into disuse may help Sirius and Remus find what is lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes You Weep

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: [#40](http://pics.livejournal.com/rsgamesmods/pic/0005kaba)

_  
Life is like an onion.  
You peel it off one layer at a time;  
And sometimes you weep._

\- Carl Sandburg, American poet

 

  
The dog snuffled his way across the leaf-scattered hollow underneath a rotting log, where the wind and rain had carved away the earth and created a small pocket of hidden warmth and shelter. Nosing through the damp dirt, the dog unearthed a wriggling worm, snapping it up in one bite and licking its chops before resuming its explorations. The world was gray and dim from his dog's-eye view, black and less black, shading into the dingiest of whites only rarely. A fat beetle glistened as it trundled across a powder of crushed, dead leaves. The dog ate it, too, never minding the twitching legs and relishing the crunch of carapace.

A far off sound sent the dog into a crouch, ears up and forward. It whined as the sound came again, nearer this time. Slowly, the dog crept closer to the edge of the overhang where the log sheltered the hole from the Outside. The dog had never left the hollowed out den. It had almost forgotten there was an Outside. The voice, for that was what the sound was, rang out again. The dog's tail thumped wildly on the damp ground and it loosed an involuntary bark.

"Padfoot?" the Voice called, coming nearer still. "Padfoot!"

The dog trembled, poised between conflicting desires. Should it cower back into its safe hole and burrow under the leaves or should it greet the Voice? The sound of the Voice filled the dog with more warmth than he could ever remember, much more than eating wriggling bugs and rolling in the lonely earth of his den. Ever so slowly, the dog inched forward.

"Padfoot, please! Where are you?" The Voice whistled and the dog went on full alert. It was calling him! Still the dog hesitated. The Outside was unknown, full of bad things that just the hint of made the dog want to slink into the deepest corner of the den and hide with his nose under his paws. But the whistle sounded again, and gathering his courage, the dog bounded out from under the log, scrambling up the muddy slope choked with brambles and vines until he cleared the small rise.

"Padfoot!"

In the shadowed copse the Voice became a Boy, darting through the trees recklessly and falling upon the dog with a sob. "Oh, Padfoot!" The Boy buried his face and hands in the dog's fur, warm, so warm, breathing moist, hot air into its ears. Even the Boy's tears were hot and welcome as they fell onto the tip of the dog's nose. Joyfully, the dog lifted its head and licked them away from its own nose and the Boy's face. The Boy threw back his head and laughed and laughed, and the dog barked its own merriment, bowling over the boy until they lay side by side on a bed of stiff pines needles. The Boy's arms held him close.

"Padfoot. Padfoot. I finally found you."

The dog opened his jaws, letting his tongue loll out as he panted happily. The Boy laughed again.

"I looked for you for so long, but I couldn't find you. I was..." Trembling, the Boy buried his face in the scruff of the dog's neck, and mumbled into the fur. "I was almost ready to give up. I almost...but then I thought of Padfoot, and I knew. I _knew_."

* * *

The dog loped joyfully up the slope when the Boy called. His trepidation had been gradually eroded with each visit the Boy paid him. He knew himself now. Padfoot. He was Padfoot, and the Boy who had given him a name had come again.

This time the Boy coaxed him out of the trees, luring him with a thrown stick farther and farther away from his hidey-hole beneath the log. It made Padfoot uncomfortable to be this close to the last of the sheltering trunks. He could see a vast, gray expanse stretching out as he peered through the scraggly bushes that squatted beneath the heavy branches of the oaks growing along the edge of the woods.

"Come on, Padfoot," the Boy urged. "Come into the meadow. I want to show you something."

Padfoot whined. There was nothing to see out there. The sky was dark, the land was empty, and he was afraid.

"Please." The Boy knelt in front of him, cupping Padfoot's face in his hands and sliding strong, warm fingers behind his ears in a soothing caress. "Trust me."

Padfoot turned his head to lick one of the Boy's hands in a show of loyal devotion.

Abruptly, the Boy stood and grinned down at Padfoot. "Chase me!"

Instinctively, Padfoot lurched on point, watching the Boy race away, and without another thought he flew after him. The rushing air blew back his thick fur, and the heady thrill of the chase made Padfoot's senses come alive. The scent of the chill night breeze and the rich loam of the earth as his paws tore through the grass engulfed him. He could smell the Boy's scent now, as well, familiar and safe, yet intoxicating. It meant warmth, food, shelter, love.

He could hear the scuttle and buzz of insects and the hooting of owls. The Boy's labored breath as he dodged this way and that, looking over his shoulder with a wild grin, reached Padfoot's pricked ears. Letting out several loud yips, Padfoot raced after him until he was able to leap forward and tumble the Boy to the ground. He claimed victory with broad swipes of tongue over the Boy's laughing face.

"Enough, you daft mutt." The Boy rolled away and sat up, slinging an arm over Padfoot's back and pointing up at the sky. "I want to show you something."

The Boy stroked Padfoot's flank as they both looked up. The sky was still dark and empty and Padfoot whined, crouching down and lowering his face against the ground.

"No, please. _Look_. Can you see them? The stars. _Look_ , Padfoot. The sky is full of them."

The Boy couldn't be disobeyed, no matter what Padfoot felt, so he raised his head and looked, pressing closer to the Boy's solid warmth.

"See what I see."

The sky seemed to grow inkier and Padfoot trembled, but then, pinpricks of light began to dot the darkness one by one, then faster and faster until the whole cloth of the heavens was filled with the glittering points of light. They were so familiar. The _stars_. Padfoot remembered them now. How could he have forgotten? A strange sense of anticipation made his fur stand on end.

"You see it don't you?" The Boy squeezed him hard enough to make Padfoot wheeze. "You really do." He pointed up again and spoke in a low, fervent voice. "There. That one. The brightest one in the sky. That's _you_."

On his knees, the Boy faced him. "That's you. Sirius." His voice broke a little. " _You're_ Sirius. Do you remember?"

Again, Padfoot's hide shivered from that galvanic anticipation. He met the Boy's gaze without wavering, trying to understand the words, but feeling overwhelmed by the waves of emotion he could sense rolling off him. Hope. Desperation. Love.

"Padfoot. _Please_." The Boy's aching voice created an answering need in Padfoot. He met it the only way he knew how, pressing up against the Boy to offer touch and warmth. " _Please_. I need you to remember. Be Sirius again." And the Boy said the magic words. "For _me_."

The air seemed to shimmer for a moment, then Padfoot flowed and shifted into a pale, long-haired boy, wrapped in a tattered black robe. The Boy sobbed, holding him impossibly tight. "Sirius! Oh, God. You--" The Boy's breath hitched as he began to cry in earnest.

With a sense of wonder, Sirius raised his cold fingers and touched the shining, wet trails marking the Boy's cheeks. He opened his mouth. Did he have a voice? The Boy stared at him as Sirius used his thumbs to brush away fat tears, and Sirius took a deep breath. "Sirius," he whispered, his voice quiet but sure. "I'm Sirius."

"Yes!" The Boy took great gulping breaths of air, nodding fiercely. His face was lit with a wild joy. "You are. You're Sirius."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully, lips parted to taste the air between them, then his eyes widened and he leant forward eagerly.

"Who are you?"

* * *

Sirius was waiting for him in the meadow, on the little hill they liked to lie on as they stared up at all the stars. Remus had named more of them for Sirius, though he refused to name them all. Sirius liked when Remus named things. It always meant something good.

He heard Remus coming before he saw him, and Sirius sat up quickly, grinning widely as he approached.

"What did you bring me this time?"

"Greedy thing," Remus chided, hiding his hands behind his back. "Perhaps I didn't bring you anything."

"You brought yourself. I don't need anything more." Sirius spoke the words with a grave sincerity that made Remus soften immediately.

"Here." Smiling, he handed Sirius a battered knapsack, and Sirius shivered as their fingers brushed. Even the smallest touch set off a nova of warmth that he couldn't get enough of. As if reading his mind, Remus drew him in and hugged him tenderly before dropping down and patting the ground beside him. "Open it up."

He plunged eagerly into the depths of the bag and pulled out a bar of chocolate, immediately tearing open the wrapping and biting off a huge piece that bulged out his cheek as he grinned at Remus. Sirius held out the bar in offering, but Remus waved it away.

"It's all for you."

Unwilling to draw out the suspense, Sirius turned the bag upside down and emptied the contents on the ground. With a happy cry, he tore off his filthy, tattered robe, unmindful of his nudity before Remus as he began to don the clothes Remus had brought this time. A faded T-shirt with a picture on the chest that he couldn't quite make out in the darkness, a pair of jeans worn to softness and frayed at the pockets and hems, and a dark leather jacket completed the ensemble. He spun, arms out, and beamed down at Remus. "How do I look?"

"Just like yourself." Remus smiled up at him, but his eyes were tired and sad. "That's your favorite get up." Sirius sank down next to him and reached out with a hand that wanted to tremble. He didn't want Remus to be sad. If he was sad here, he might not come back again.

As always, Remus seemed to know what he wanted, drawing him into the circle of his arms and holding him against his chest until the pounding in Sirius' heart calmed. He knew what Remus wanted, too, but Sirius was too afraid to try and give it to him. He was selfish. He knew that, but Remus wanted so much. So much. And Sirius was deathly afraid.

"Just try." Remus sighed, rubbing circles against the small of Sirius' back. "Please try for me. Try to remember."

His throat clicked as Sirius tried to swallow dry.

"I...I used to know another boy called Remus."

"Yes," Remus whispered, arms tightening painfully around him. "You did."

"My Remus looked like you. And...and." Sirius shuddered. "I knew a boy called James." The quick intake of breath made Sirius look up and meet Remus' eyes. "He died."

His tears soaked the front of Remus' shirt and then his lap as Sirius curled up in a ball and wept for what seemed like forever. Only the gentle hands in his hair kept him there, a boy, when the urge to become Padfoot, or better even, just the dog, was burning through his shattered senses. He thought Remus cried, too, but he didn't open his eyes to see.

After the longest silence in the world, Sirius spoke again. "I killed him."

The sound of Remus' shuddering breath was a susurration, slithering down Sirius' spine to pebble and chill his skin. But Remus only said, "Tell me what happened."

"There was a secret. A very important secret," Sirius began slowly, reciting in sing song like a small child. "James and...and Lily... _Lily_." His fingers clutched Remus' trousers, digging into the flesh beneath. "Please don't make me do this."

A thumb brushed the line of his jaw. "You have to. It's the only way. Please, Sirius."

Bitter sorrow made his voice shake. "The secret. I knew it. James and Lily knew it. Peter."

"You remember Peter?"

Sirius lurched up, his face twisting. "Yes, _Peter_. I remember him. We changed in the end. It was my idea. Peter would keep the secret. No one would expect it. And Peter did it. He betrayed them, but it was my fault they died. My fault."

He looked at Remus in dread of what he'd find on his face, but Remus gazed into nothing, a look of dawning comprehension spreading over his face. "Is that why you killed Peter? Because he betrayed them?"

"I didn't kill him!"

The cry jerked Remus out of his daze and he gave Sirius a sharp look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's not dead. Not by my hand. He cut off his finger and killed all those people! He ran off. He--"

"Transformed and snuck off to find himself a little rat hole to cower in," Remus interrupted in a dreamy voice. "It all makes sense now."

Sirius nodded, not questioning how Remus knew. Remus knew everything. _Was_ everything.

"The only thing..." Sirius watched anxiously as Remus chewed at his bottom lip, a frown creasing his brow. "The only thing is...you didn't tell Remus about the change?"

"No," Sirius whispered, his shoulders slumping as he closed his eyes against the shame and sorrow that seemed to be trying to batter their way out of his chest. "I thought...I thought..."

"You thought he was the spy."

Miserably, Sirius nodded. "He didn't know I thought that. My Remus thought I trusted him, still."

"Why?" The shades of pain inflecting Remus' voice made Sirius look up in wide-eyed fear. He could see Remus--strong, safe Remus--disintegrating right in front of his eyes. Panic catapulted him forward, clutching at Remus' shoulders and arms desperately. " _Why_?"

"I...I don't know. I can't _remember_ any reasons now. Please, Remus. What's wrong?"

Remus shook his head back and forth, and then he shoved Sirius away, making him moan with anguish. His head reeled as Remus stood, looming above him like a dark shadow so that Sirius couldn't read his face in the darkness. Remus took a step backward and then another, and then he was running away from Sirius, ignoring Sirius' strangled cry, into the edges of the darkness where Sirius could never follow.

* * *

Sirius had long given way to Padfoot. He wasn't sure how long it had been. He only knew that the sky had lost all its stars again, and the only sorts of things he could measure were the cold and the loneliness constantly pressing in on him. He scorned his den, though, despite the suffocating fear of the expansive dark, remaining at his station on the little hill with a dogged, futile faithfulness even as he despaired.

He knew he was alone forever this time. He'd lost this Remus, as well, and it was only what he deserved. That was why, when he heard the sounds of rustling grasses and felt the tiny tremors in the ground beneath him from feet pounding steadily closer, he didn't believe it until he heard the sound of his name.

"Sirius!" And then Remus was there, dropping to his knees as Padfoot whined and rolled belly up, offering his submission. "Oh, Padfoot. I'm _so_ sorry."

Remus draped over him, petting him, holding him, begging him to be Sirius again. "I'm sorry," he whispered over and over. "I won't leave again like that. Not ever again. I promise."

The air shimmered and Sirius was there, underneath him, hanging on as if he were drowning. "Please don't leave again. I'm sorry for whatever I did. I'm sorry. Don't leave me here alone."

"Shh..no," Remus gave a strangled sob. "I won't."

Sirius couldn't stop staring, his hands found Remus' face in the near pitch darkness, tracing the features he could barely see. "I thought you were gone forever, like the stars."

"The stars?" Startled, Remus tried to raise his head, but Sirius didn't let him, sinking his fingers deep in Remus' hair and bringing their faces a bare millimeter apart.

"I thought you were gone, like my Remus. He hates me now, I know it, and I couldn't bear...I couldn't bear it if you hated me, as well."

"No. No, Sirius. Never."

"I don't want to be alone anymore. And I miss James, Remus. He must hate me now, too."

"He could never hate you. Not James. Not Remus. Not me." The whisper brushed over Sirius' lips like a balm, and he parted them to take in the sweet breath.

"I miss my Remus. He used to hold me like this."

"Oh, God. Sirius..."

When Remus crushed their mouths together, Sirius gave himself over without thought. It wasn't until later, when the beat of their blood had slowed to a sedate and measured pace, that Sirius noticed all of the stars had come back. The meadow seemed so much brighter, brighter than it ever had before, and when he rolled his head to scan the sky he saw the waxing gibbous moon.

He shot up in wonder. "Moony!"

Startled, Remus sat up as Sirius' face lit with excitement. "It's almost full! Are you like my Remus? A werewolf?"

Remus nodded slowly. "You remember?"

"Yes. We ran with Moony every month. All of us! Me and Prongs and..." His face fell.

"I'm glad you remember. Because it will be full tomorrow and I don't think I'll be able to come here."

Sirius' features contorted, and Remus rushed to explain. "No! It's not you. It's the moon. You know I have to go with it. But I'll come back as soon as I can. I promise."

"Why can't you come here. It's safe with Padfoot. I know what to do! Please, Remus!" He clutched at Remus desperately. "Don't go away again."

"Sirius. Sirius!" Remus grabbed the sides of his face and forced him meet his eyes. "I'll only be gone one night. Just one. And you know..." Hesitating, he studied Sirius' face carefully. "You know this...this place...where we are--it isn't precisely real, don't you? You know it's a dream."

Sirius tried to look way but Remus wouldn't let him. "Remus, I don't like--"

"I know you don't like to think about it, but you know it's true." Sirius shut his eyes against the words Remus was saying. "Sirius, I don't know how the magic will work that night. If it will work at all. I'll try. I will. Maybe the wolf will come, maybe I will, or maybe nothing will happen."

"You won't come back. If it's just a dream, you'll wake up forever, and I'll be trapped here all alone," Sirius whispered.

"No. I'll always find you." Sirius whimpered as warm lips brushed his temples. "I swear to you, Sirius. I'll always find you. Trust me." His eyelids were tenderly kissed and Sirius fluttered them open. "I trust _you_ , Sirius. And I need you to be strong. When I come back...we're going to fix things."

* * *

Sirius waited on the mound in the meadow, angled toward his star because they were all still shining, and because he trusted Remus to return. This time he could see Remus coming before he heard him because the dome of the sky was lightening above and around him, almost imperceptibly at first. As the stars faded, Sirius almost began to panic, but then the sky began to shed its somber grays almost impatiently it seemed, and far away, on the edge of the world, Remus appeared.

His silhouetted form stopped and waved for a moment as the day broke behind him, and Sirius could do nothing but stare. His face was wet when Remus reached him, but he made no move to wipe the damp tracks away. His eyes were caught up in the bright highlights of Remus' hair, the mix of colors in his irises as they widened and contracted with every change of emotion that played across his face.

"Why are you crying?" Remus touched his cheek, looking at him with concern.

"Because I'm looking at the sun." Sirius' wobbly smile grew stronger as Remus' mouth curved up in response.

"Soppy, Sirius. Very--"

Sirius lunged at Remus, and they fell to the ground, wrestling and laughing together in the tall, sweet-smelling grass, the blue sky all around them.

"Are you an angel?" Sirius asked, hovering over Remus on all fours, and Remus snickered.

"Compared to you, maybe."

"I think you are."

"Pretty manky one, yeah?"

"Bite your tongue." Sirius prodded the center of Remus' chest. "You're beautiful."

"No, that's always been you."

Sirius sat up to push the hair back off his face, his face lighting up in a brilliant smile. "This really is a dream, isn't it?"

Remus nodded warily. "Yes."

"I've decided I don't mind because it's the best dream I've ever had."

"Sirius."

"And since it is, could I...could I could have James back, too?"

Remus made a soft sound, looking up at Sirius helplessly.

"Oh, God. Remus don't cry. I'm sorry. It was a crazy idea. It's all right."

"No, it's not. I'm sorry. So sorry, Sirius. That's something I can't do, but I can help you remember him better. James and Lily both. And you remember Harry, don't you? I can help you find Harry."

"Harry." Sirius breathed the name with wonder. "Yes, I remember Harry. Wee Prongs. I'd like to find Harry."

Remus sat up, fixing on Sirius' face with determination. "Then you have to do something for me. You have to remember. Everything. Come back to yourself. You have to wake up. Really wake up."

Sirius reached for Remus' hand, gripping it tightly. "Isn't it enough? I've remembered so much, haven't I?" Shame-faced, he dropped his chin. "I'm afraid, Remus."

"I know, but you're the bravest person I know."

"There are bad things where I am," Sirius whispered. "They take everything away."

"I know. I know, but I can help you get them back." Remus squeezed his hand painfully tight. "Just like I've been doing every night. You remember James, don't you? Lily and Harry? And you remember Peter and what he did. We can find him and make him pay for what he did. We will. Together. But first I need you, Sirius. I need you to come back all the way."

"Will you..." Sirius crept closer, hiding his face in the curve of Remus' throat. "Will you be there if I wake up?"

"Silly, Padfoot." His hands smoothed over Sirius' back, dancing across his ribs to make him squirm and giggle. "Of course I will. You _know_ who I really am."

Smiling, though his mouth trembled, Sirius looked up, eyes wide and hopeful. "My Remus?"

"Yes, always." The tenderness in Remus' voice made Sirius' chest ache in almost painful joy. "I looked for you such a long time. Scoured through more musty scrolls than I can count. Oneiromancy is a rather obscure branch of magic, I can tell you that much. They wouldn't let me come see you, you see. I tried. I really did, Sirius. Even Dumbledore couldn't get me in, but he helped me find another way, though he wasn't all too sure about it in the beginning. But I figured it out, and I went looking. Thought I'd bollocksed it up after a while when I couldn't find you for so long, but I did. I found you. And now we'll always be together."

"Together," Sirius echoed.

Remus smiled and raised his hands, spreading his fingers wide to let the rays of the sun shine between them, "Now watch this."

The dream changed, a window in the sky opening up to a great flowing procession of space and time that caught Sirius up and disembodied him as flashes of images burned like sunspots behind his eyelids: a tiny boat in a violent sea, moored in the middle of choppy waves, a naked man--Remus--bobbing in the water near a rocky shore until he could breathe air once again, Azkaban, the Cloak to slip past the unwary Warden, the knife to open locks, Patronus--a silver version of Padfoot--to drive the Dementors away. Escape. Water. Freedom.

In the end, it happened just as in the dream. As the dawn broke around them, they huddled in a sodden, frozen heap in the bottom of the wave-tossed dinghy, too exhausted to cast a warming charm yet, all blue lips and trembling chins, and identical teeth-chattering smiles.

* * *

Epilogue.

The rat nosed around the corners of the room, fat and comfortable, searching for forgotten morsels or secrets. Both kinds of things whet his appetite. His fur was sleek and healthy from the good life he'd found for himself.

He deserved it, more than anyone, for hadn't he lived through hard times? Hadn't he made hard sacrifices? If anyone deserved a moment in the sun, he did. It was a well-earned pleasure to be able to just exist, to relax without having to look over one's shoulder all the time. And right now, that was just what he was going to do.

Nimbly, he scaled the covers of the boy's bed he shared. It was soft and smelled of linens dried in the open air. With a contented squeak he nestled into the plump pillow where a shaft of sunlight through the window warmed the fabric. He quickly fell asleep.

In the dream, he was Peter, wandering through a room full of secrets at Hogwarts. A room that he had never told the others about. It was his, his alone. He crouched down to examine a curious cabinet, jiggling the lock and trying to pry it open until two large shadows fell across the door.

"Hello, Peter."


End file.
